


At the top of the world

by un_petit_peu_de_moi



Series: Day by day [7]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, I hate Juanfran with a passion, M/M, mentions of the World Cup, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3255191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/un_petit_peu_de_moi/pseuds/un_petit_peu_de_moi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of the match against Atletico Madrid, Neymar is happy they won, but the things that have been said - he would rather he hadn't heard them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the top of the world

**Author's Note:**

> I HATE JUANFRAN WITH A PASSION.
> 
> Also, I had absolutely not planned to write anything like that, but then there was this match and boum! feelings. That's a bit annoying though, because it's somehow similar to the part I posted just before, but *sigh*. I'm blaming Juanfran.
> 
> Also, for anyone who doesn't know, or may be reading this in a week, a month, a year : this takes place after a match Barça won against Atletico Madrid, which allowed them to move to the semi-finals of the Copa Del Rey. Neymar got fouled a lot during this game, and most notably, a defender, Juanfran, taunted him with the 7-1 loss Brazil suffered at the World Cup.

Anger and excitement weren’t supposed to go together, and yet those were the two feelings that had been in Neymar’s head for the last few hours. Anger, excitement and frustration. How he _wished_ he had scored again, struck again, crushed them again and some more, showed them what it’s like being destroyed.

 

And still; still he felt happy, content, ecstatic, hopeful, because they had reached the semis, and the Copa could be theirs. It would be theirs.

 

He was lying in his bed, looking at the ceiling, and as the clock ticked off, he found himself giving in to frustration more than joy. The joy had passed. The joy had been in the locker-room, in the bus, in the plane; the joy had been when the whole team was there and they had shared an unconditional conviction that they would come out victorious. Joy had been when they had all hugged, when he’d kissed Leo in the shower, when they’d sung and danced and did the things you do when you can’t stay in place.

 

The joy had been some hours ago, and now there was only the ceiling, and the light filtering from the bathroom door.

 

He shouldn’t have told Leo to come over. He had thought he was happy and in the mood to celebrate, but his mood was crashing down fast, and he didn’t want to dampen Leo’s joy, once again.

 

Leo exited the bathroom, switching off the light, and for some seconds Neymar saw nothing. He heard slow steps make their way to his bed, and by the time they had reached him, the moon was enough for him to see the white ceiling again.

 

The bed dipped next to him, and Leo filled his vision, peeking at him curiously.

 

“You’re okay?”

 

Neymar shrugged his shoulders, a bit confused himself on the matter. He was always okay, if Leo was near him, but that’s probably not what Leo meant, and that wasn’t something Neymar was ready to say anyway.

 

Leo frowned, studying his face, and he bent down, slowly, towards his face, pressing his lips against his.

 

Ah _yes_ , he was always okay when Leo was near him.

 

Neymar slipped a hand behind Leo’s head, holding his nape, and he deepened the kiss. Leo moved, arranging his body so he was properly straddling him, his hands at his sides pulling his shirt up. They kissed like that for a while, Leo’s fingers on his sides, Neymar’s hands ruining Leo's hair, willingly letting his frustration become sexual, letting it steam from neediness rather than from anger.

 

Leo lied down on his side, breaking their kiss, but he kept his hand on his torso, wandering. They were both breathing a bit heavily, and Neymar was half-hard. Leo probably was too.

 

Leo whispered “What do you want?” and what Neymar wanted was to celebrate with Leo, suck his dick and ride him, add an orgasm to their victory. That’s what he wanted, but despite being half hard, he still felt heavy and sad, and he wasn’t lighting up anytime soon.

 

Neymar didn’t answer anything, but it seemed to be enough for Leo, because he leaned in again, kissing his neck lazily and moving his body back over his. Leo sucked on his neck, and slowly started kissing his way down, pressing his lips against Neymar’s heaving chest.

 

“I want-” Leo didn’t look up when Neymar talked, kept on making his way down on his body, but Neymar knew he was listening anyway – Leo didn’t always talk much but he always listened, even when Neymar wasn’t saying anything.

 

“I want them to shut up.” Leo’s eyes flicked up to glance at him, but he didn’t stop moving his lips against his skin. Neymar gripped his nape again and looked up, staring at the ceiling. “About the world cup; I want them to shut up.”

 

Leo slid his underwear off of him, and his hands caressed his thigh, rubbing while he mouthed at his pelvis.

 

“He’s a benchwarmer. He’s not worth anything for his country, how can he think his opinion is worth anything for _mine_. Why does everyone think I’m ashamed of that? They tried— fuck” Neymar whined, his voice high pitched as Leo’s fingers sneaked behind him, circling his entrance, and Neymar tried to keep his back from arching off of the bed.

 

“I _know_ they tried; I watched it. Sitting, on my couch, just like he watched his team be defeated, from the bench. I was as useless as he was, maybe; but I was the only useless one. Not them, not the team, not— _ah._ ”

 

Leo’s finger pushed in, slowly, and Leo’s mouth was on his inner thigh, pressing wet kisses and loving bites.

                                                 

“Why do they keep bringing this up, they don’t understand anything. _Hm_ , _Leo_.” He whined, again, because the finger in him wasn’t moving much, and Leo’s mouth kept stopping short of his crotch. He clenched his hand in Leo’s hair, harder, and gripped the sheet with his other hand.

 

Leo put his hand on his thigh, spreading his legs wider apart, putting his knee over his shoulder, and his finger found his prostate, pressing down on it and teasing his way out.

 

“ _I just want them to shut up_.” Neymar repeated, breathless.

 

Leo mouthed his way up, not letting go of his thigh, and he pushed a second finger in, fucking and stretching inside. He stopped his travel up when he reached his nipple, sucking on it until it was as hard as his dick. Neymar thigh slid off of Leo’s shoulder, resting in the crook of his elbow, and he arched up a bit into Leo’s touch.

 

He couldn’t really talk like that, not breathless like that, but he didn’t have anything more to say. That was it: he just wanted them to shut up, and they would never shut up, because they didn’t understand what it meant, they could never understand what it had been.

 

Both Leo’s fingers started hitting his prostate roughly, and Neymar arched his back off the bed, closing his eyes as Leo seemed to be stuck on his nipple, nibbling on it. He was scissoring him with his fingers, preparing him. Sex, that’s what Neymar wanted right now. What he needed.

 

Leo resumed his travel back up, slipping his arm from underneath his thigh to let his slid down around his waist. Neymar spread his legs, bending both of them so Leo could finger him more easily. That also allowed Neymar to ground his feet in the bed sheets, to better arch back against the fingers inside him. Leo kissed his neck, sucking a hickey there, probably, and Leo’s boner was sometimes pressing against his inner thigh.

 

Neymar threw an arm on the side, blindly searching for the drawer, trying to open it and get the lube without looking. Leo wasn’t making it easy for him, and Neymar suspected that he purposefully hit his prostate when Neymar was close to his goal, because that was what Leo did: slow things down, take his time, make him wait. He let Neymar writhe underneath him, and he didn’t stop until Neymar made him. And most of the time, Neymar wasn’t even sure he wanted him to stop, because he could come like that – he’d only need to wrap a hand around his dick while Leo was fingering him, and that would be good too.

 

But Leo was hard against him, panting a bit against his neck, and above everything Neymar always wanted Leo. He wanted Leo, wanted to feel him inside him, wanted to have Leo pant against his skin, wanted to kiss Leo’s breath away.

 

He gripped Leo’s hair harder, forcing his head up and kissing him, full on the lips. It surprised Leo enough that Neymar succeeded in taking the lube out, and he felt Leo’s lips stretch against his when he did. He wriggled a bit after that, trying to kiss Leo and arch off of his fingers at the same time. Leo’s fingers stayed locked inside though, pressing deep, and they followed his ass when he was trying to lift it off. Eventually, Neymar realized that if he truly wanted to have Leo fuck him, he’d need to actually remove his fingers, and so he reached down, wrapping his hand around Leo’s wrist to stop it.

 

Leo didn’t resist when Neymar pulled his fingers out. He snatched the lube from Neymar’s hand, and uncapped it as Neymar slid Leo’s short low enough to let his cock out. Leo’s dick was hard against his stomach, and it looked good, dark in the moon-lighted room. Neymar watched Leo’s hand as it lubed his dick, wrapping around it and stroking his whole shaft.

 

“What do you want?” Leo whispered again, pressing his lips back against his, and he might have been asking _‘how do you want it’_ , but he might also be asking something else.

 

“What about you?” Neymar whispered back, because it was easier than answering _‘You. Always you’._

 

Leo’s hand pushed against his inner thigh, bending it, and Neymar felt the head of his dick travel down, sliding on his skin, until it was pressed against his hole.

 

“I want to fuck you.” Leo answered, breathless, “I’ll make you feel good,” he said, “I’ll make you feel _me_.”

 

Neymar’s heart was beating so fast in his chest, and it would have been easy to tell Leo he wanted him. It would have been easy to let Leo fuck him, let Leo take him bits by bits and make Neymar writhe underneath him. Easy to let Leo soothe him with unspoken words and caresses, easy to let his orgasm wash over him, and let himself cry when he came.

 

“Okay, but not like that.” Neymar pushed on Leo’s chest, and Leo drew back, confused. Neymar used the thighs he had around Leo’s waist to flip them over, making Leo lie on his back as Neymar straddled his laps.

 

Leo looked up at him, greedy and confused, and Neymar smiled down at him.

 

“Don’t give me comfort sex. We won; we deserve better than that.”

 

He raised his hips, positioning himself above Leo’s dick, and Leo’s hand gripped his waist to guide him down. He sat down on Leo’s cock, gasping as he took everything in, felt Leo’s dick part him from the inside.

 

Leo brought a hand up to catch his head, pulling him forward so he could kiss his gasp away. His hand caressed his side, up and down, and he started rolling his hips slowly into Neymar. Neymar chuckled breathlessly.

 

“You’re still trying to appease me. Won’t you let me ride you? I thought you liked that.”

 

Leo hummed in his mouth, and he pulled him in even more, until he could reach his ear, bite his earlobe and nibble on his earring. He kept moving his hips in small circles, making Neymar gasp and whine.

 

“Okay.” Leo said finally and the hand on his side gripped his hips instead. Neymar steadied himself as much as he could with Leo’s hand still in his hair, and Leo didn’t stop moving his hips. Neymar started moving, raising his hips some inches, and lowering them back down, pressing his hand on Leo’s stomach to hold himself.

 

Neymar had a necklace around his neck, and the cross at the end bumped against his torso rhythmically as he picked up a pace. Leo thrust his hips up slowly to accompany his movement, and he kept a hand in his hair, keeping Neymar from sitting up straight. He hovered above Leo, casting his shadow over him, and because it was already dark, he almost couldn’t see him. Leo’s body was so pale, so white that he could always perceive it, but he could barely see Leo’s eyes. He still felt them on him, because if Neymar was hiding Leo from view, _he_ was bathed in the moonlight, and he knew Leo could see him.

 

He always disliked the way Leo was watching him, because it was too intent, too focused, made him doubt himself where he had always been confident and self-assured. Yet when Leo looked at him, he wanted to preen, to straighten his back and look him down, to let him see and to make him watch. Let Neymar be the only thing on Leo’s mind, let Leo find him gorgeous if he could, let him occupy his thoughts, all of them, even if it was just for this moment.

 

Leo was panting, and his breath sometimes hitched. He kissed Neymar too, and muffled his voice against his lips. Neymar whimpered in Leo’s mouth when Leo thrust up too hard, his hands gripping his waist with a viselike grip. Maybe Neymar would bruise, Leo-shaped fingerprints on his dark skin. Maybe Leo would be the one to be marked, Neymar’s short nails scratching against the skin of his stomach as he tried to keep himself steady.

 

They picked up the pace fast, and in no time Neymar was sweating profusely, and the necklace around his neck stuck to his chest when he sat up straight enough. When Leo brought his head down, the cross bumped against Leo’s chest, and it felt heavy around Neymar’s neck, weighing him down, when he tried to sit up properly again.

 

Leo let go of his hair finally, his hand gripping his thigh instead, and Neymar sat up fully, feeling the full length of Leo’s cock inside him. He moaned deeply when Leo used both his hands to fuck into him better, thrusting up increasingly fast.

 

Neymar still supported himself on Leo’s stomach, panting heavily, trying to find Leo’s eyes. He wasn’t casting his shadow over Leo now, and he could see him, his skin so pale, and his eyes so dark.

 

“We won. We beat them, each and every time.” Neymar's voice was shaky, breathless.

 

“Yeah.” Leo answered, the sound a bit strangled in his throat as he struggled to breathe.

 

“We’ll win the next match. We’ll win the Copa too. And the Liga, and everything else.”

 

Leo huffed, a smile on his lips.

 

“We’ll be champions of everything?” Leo said, mocking him in a way, but that was what they both wanted, Neymar knew.

 

“I won’t let anybody mock us. Mock me. Mock my teams. I’ll show this guy—”

 

Leo increased the strength of his thrust, taking him deep, and Neymar had trouble talking amidst his moans.

 

“Show him what?” Leo asked, breathless, probably trying to tease him, to turn his words into moans and then smirk when he couldn’t talk, but Leo wasn’t very controlled himself, hair sticking to his forehead, and his eyes hazy as he stared at Neymar, trying to focus on his face, on his chest, on his dick, all at the same time.

 

“—show him we’re the best. I’ll be good, I’ll win everything, with everyone. With Brazil, and with Barça, we’ll win everything- _Ah!_ ”

 

It was getting increasingly hard to talk, and his dick was aching and hard, and his ass was clenching down around Leo, and he knew both of them were about to come. He wrapped a hand around his dick, tightening his hand around himself almost painfully.

 

“We’ll crush everyone, and take everything, and then the next time I see him, I’ll—”

 

Leo hands tightened, and he brought him down on his dick hard, and Neymar came, on his own torso, gasping, a breathless scream on the tip of his tongue as Leo kept thrusting up into him, until he could feel him come too.

 

Neymar had somehow managed to stay up through his climax, but his hand was shaking now, clenched on Leo’s abs, and when he felt Leo’s grip on his hips loosen, he flopped down, falling forward and draping his upper body over Leo.

 

He caught his breath in the crook of Leo’s neck, Leo’s cock still buried deep inside. He didn’t know how long it took them to catch their breaths, but when Leo’s voice broke through the darkness, Neymar realized he had closed his eyes.

 

“Then what?” He asked, his voice low, breath blowing against his ear.

 

Neymar didn’t immediately get what Leo was asking, what he was referring too, because as much as he had said he didn’t want comfort sex, that was what he had got – Leo had made him feel blissful and fine and better.

 

“The next time you see him, what will you do?”

 

He had to think a bit, but he remembered what he wanted to say, and he raised on his elbow, looking down into Leo’s eyes, a smile on his lips.

 

“Nothing. I won’t remember him when we’re at the top of the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> *sigh again*
> 
> It's easy to tell when I'm writing something reeling from post-match feelings isn't it. Unexpected one-shot with a weird tone to them. 
> 
> Anyway, I still hate Juanfran with a passion.


End file.
